Dance your way to health (or being institutionalized)

Dance your way to health (or being institutionalized)

imageIf you ask anyone who is trying to get fit, lose weight and become healthier, one of the first things they say is “Start Moving.” As in exercise.  Like working out and stuff.  There was that one year that I tried aerobics at the gym.  I think they have lifted the court order demanding I stay away after scaring everyone.  Then I tried the basic machines–treadmill, elliptical, stair-climber etc.  I actually did enjoy those and no one was hurt.  But in order to take advantage of those rockin’ workout methods it is necessary to join a gym.  A place where spandex is an acceptable form of attire.  (I will take this moment to state that spandex bike shorts on men are not a good idea.  At all.  Ever.  And on many women.) Once I am at the gym, I am all over the working out and loving it.  It’s that whole “get dressed, get in the car, drive to the gym, get ready/stretch and then work out” routine thing that gets me every time.  Can’t they bring the gym to me?  (They say no.) However, I am determined to get myself active, moving and feeling healthier.  (And of course, lose this weight that my stress eating has piled upon my not needing it frame.) So I decided to find something at home that I can do and enjoy.

Enter my MP3 player.  Add in a house where I am all alone.  Mix in the lack of caring what my dog thinks and you have the perfect mixture for a Dance Dance Party for One.

I bee-bopped.  I busted a move.  I jigged and jagged.  Oh, yes, I boogied my way all over the house for about 45 minutes.  Music turned up as loud as my ears could handle it and a house with no one to mock me.  My arms were a flailing about.  My feet were moving as if separate from my body.  I did those moves that would make even the best hip-hop dancer green with envy.  At least in my mind. 

(Sidenote to the delivery man who rang my doorbell.  I really wasn’t skinning a cat in there.  I swear.  I just really liked singing to that song!  My apologies to you and your therapist.)

About 40 minutes into it I noticed the look on my dog’s face.  It was a mix between fear and horror.  Yes, I had the ability to cause a 100 pound Doberman to quake on his bed for fear that the demons that must have taken over my body would get him, too.  You have not lived until you see that your dancing has caused immense fear in your DOG!

Know what?  It felt good.  I don’t think I am quite ready to take it on the road yet, but I will be bringing it old school for BlogHer.  Oh yes, Karen, BE AFRAID!


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